


Erosion

by ver_ironica



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Keith is grieving a lot, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, POV Keith (Voltron), Smut, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000, keith mini bang 2018, oc side character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 17:52:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15370071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ver_ironica/pseuds/ver_ironica
Summary: The desert wears away at everything. Keith is forced to try to live in a shack he was drawn to after being expelled from the Galaxy Garrison. Grief for Shiro tears at his heart just as the hot, dry wind tears at his eyes. He learns to manage, distracting himself from his memories by surviving. Patterns begin to emerge around him, an energy pulling him to figure out the puzzle around him. But as these clues take shape, he begins to doubt it all. Maybe he’s wrong about everything, including Shiro.Keith during the year following the Kerberos explosion.





	Erosion

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the [Keith Mini Bang](http://keithminibang.tumblr.com/). There will be art soon by the amazing [ escaleamare on tumblr](https://escaleamare.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> This is a very introspective fic, a lot of Keith alone with his thoughts! There will be minimal dialogue, and a lot of metaphor and imagery. 
> 
> Some extra notes: I wrote a lot of this before s6, so if there are any inconsistencies with canon that I do not mention, that is why. I'm sure s7 will also make everything completely not canon compliant. However, the main focus is that I am hc’ing that Keith was too young to remember the shack, at least without his house beside it. It feels familiar, but that’s about it.

**370 Days Before**

The lights of the Garrison are bright, searching for him. But not too bright, not enough to draw the attention of the other cadets. The alarm system wasn’t even triggered, no protocols announced over the intercoms. At most, the other students would probably guess maybe there was some sort of wild animal outside, nothing of note.

Keith knows exactly why. How bad would it look for the Garrison if their new, budding top pilot was reported to be running away from their prized institution? 

He almost laughed at the exhilaration from the escape, but his chest wasn’t light enough to let out laughter. It was weighed down, empty with the reasons behind his reckless escape. He had punched Iverson. That was, for the first time, an emotional outburst that he didn’t regret. 

He had been lucky. He had been in Iverson’s office and it had been after curfew, so no one else was around. He was looking for something, anything, to find out what kind of error had caused the death of the Kerberos crew. 

His skill wasn’t for computers, and there weren’t any loose papers with that kind of information just laying out for anyone to find. After his frantic search had gone on for about twenty minutes, Iverson had returned. 

“Cadet Kogane, what on earth are you doing in here?” Iverson had burst, startling Keith. 

He was usually better about things like this, about not getting caught off guard, about not getting caught in general. “I was just--” he began, hating how small his voice had come out. He had changed tactics instantly. “What happened to the Kerberos mission?” 

Iverson had sighed and rolled his eyes, and Keith had never hated him more than in that instant. “Look, Cadet, you know we don’t know all the details. But the likely cause was pilot err--”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Keith had growled, taking a step closer. “Shiro was the best damn pilot to ever come out of this place.”

“Mistakes. Happen,” Iverson had shot back, standing to his full height, glaring at Keith, his eyes hard as rocks. “Now get to bed before I write a report on this.” 

“You tell me the truth!” Keith had shouted. 

“The _truth_ is that Shirogane is _dead_ , Cadet! You need to get--” 

And Keith had punched him with all his strength, right in his eye, cutting off whatever he had been about to say. He hit him so hard he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. 

And Keith had left. 

He had known he wouldn’t have long before either the night security team found Iverson or that he would wake up on his own. He had hurried to his room and gathered up his civilian clothes and essentials. It was only enough to fill his backpack halfway. He’d dug around in his drawers until he found the spare outfit Shiro used to keep in his room, and he stuffed that into his bag too. He’d snagged a few of his books, with worn creases and stories he couldn’t leave behind. He had wished he could change his outfit so he would be less recognizable, but he hadn’t had the time. 

Hurrying down to the loading docks, he had flashed his ID to open the doors. He was lucky he had senior clearance this far, but that wouldn’t get him a bike. He would have to break through the security, and that would sound the alarms. 

He had found his favorite hoverbike, the newest model. It was a muted, sleek gray, with orange Garrison accents. The keys were already in the bike, all he had to do was turn the ignition to bring it to life. 

He had slapped the panel to open the bay doors, and the alarms had sounded instantly, harsh and angry. He had jumped on the bike and accelerated so fast his cap had flown off behind him. 

Cadets on patrol had ran at him, trying to cut off his exit. He had easily dodged them, he wasn’t the star pilot for nothing. While they tried to start some of the other vehicles in the loading dock, he was already out and headed into the desert. The lights of their vehicles followed him for a few miles before they vanished.

But now what? 

He was driving aimlessly, not a home in the world to return to, nobody to ask for help. He felt compelled to go west, further into the desert. Part of him though he was crazy--he had only a half-filled water bottle and only a few granola bars for food--but another half of him told him that it would be okay. 

He drove past the Galaxy Garrison launch pads they had a few miles out. He wiped at his face and turned his attention back in front of him, determined not to dwell on the last time he had been on those launch sites. 

Too late, the memories started flooding his mind. 

\---

He was back nine months ago, standing with Shiro on the launch pad. It was the day of the launch, and he couldn’t keep himself from clenching and relaxing his fists. His palms were growing clammy, and his stomach was in knots. 

He knew, rationally, that everything was probably going to be okay. But he couldn’t stop the fear twisting his gut. 

“You’re going to come back,” he said aloud, interrupting whatever Shiro had been explaining about the engines. 

Shiro looked at him with surprise, and then his gaze softened. “Of course, Keith. I’ll be here in 20 months, the time will fly by, you won’t even notice I’m gone.” 

“When you say say something like ‘you won’t even notice,’ then you lose your credibility,” Keith said, trying to keep the pout from his face. 

Shiro laughed, and Keith wanted to join in, but he was trying to be serious. He bit his lip.

“Keith,” he said loudly, then glanced at the Holt family just on the other side of the platform, and he bent down to whisper, “ _baby_. It’ll be alright.” 

In that moment, Keith felt a little better. Shiro had never been wrong before. “You know I’ll miss you,” he said. 

Shiro put an arm on his shoulder. “Yes, I know. I’ll miss you too. We’ll video call, though, and then I’ll be right back.”

Keith wanted to hug him and kiss him, but with Garrison officials and the Holt family nearby, he knew they couldn’t. Their relationship wasn’t exactly public. He self-consciously tugged on the high collar of his uniform. They had done plenty of kissing goodbye last night...and this morning. 

Shiro eyed him pulling up his collar. “And you’ll have those for at least a few more days,” he said playfully. That brought a reluctant grin out of Keith.

However, his grin quickly faded as the rocket launch began. 

\---

_How could Shiro be so sure that everything was going to be alright?_ Keith wondered as the desert landscape shifted around him. _Why was he wrong?_

He felt like when tragedies like these happen, there should be a warning. Some kind of foreboding feeling, the knowledge that something is going to go wrong. Maybe Shiro had been lying to him to make him feel better, but Shiro was always a bad liar. 

An outline of a town came into view. Keith knew this town, it was the furthest of the two that were near the Garrison. The town to the east was called Trayton, and it was a common escape for Cadets to go to bars and clubs, usually eventually leading to their own expulsion. But this town in front of him was called Grayville, and it wasn’t nearly as popular with the Garrison. 

A good place to quickly resupply. 

He glanced to his left. There was a sharp outline of something on the horizon. A building maybe? But it was very small. Some kind of shack? He thought he even saw a shock of green, the only sign of vegetation for miles. 

He couldn’t resist his curiosity, and a tug in his gut that said it was where he was supposed to go. He turned south and was there in a few minutes. 

The shack stood behind a little hill, wooden and small, with a porch that had a little rocking chair propped up. There was a tree behind it, its green leaves indicative of some water nearby. Keith spotted a water pump and guessed there must still be a water table beneath the surface. 

The sight of it was achingly familiar, but Keith couldn’t figure out why.

He didn’t see any sign of people still living here. He tentatively parked his bike and cut the engine. The sudden stillness and quiet was encompassing. 

He readied his knife in one hand, and slowly approached the front door. He didn’t think he would need it, but some desert animals might’ve taken shelter. The porch creaked under his feet, and he held his breath while his heart pounded. He rapped his knuckles against the door, waited, and then pushed, the door swinging inward on loose hinges. 

It was empty. Keith let the air _woosh_ out of his lungs. 

He took in the space. It was very dusty, almost everything had a layer of sand coating it. It was mainly one room. There were bookshelves along every space they could fit, which seemed odd to Keith. There was a couch in the center of the room that seemed to double as the bed of the space. A makeshift coffee table was in front of it, supported by bricks. There was a tiny area for food storage, but no large space to cook except for a little hot plate. The bathroom was an outhouse around the side of the house, which Keith had no idea how to maintain.

Upon closer inspection, he saw that most of the books were about survival and about desert life, with a few fantasy and science fiction books scattered throughout. He felt a swell of curiosity, wondering who would prioritize books out there in the middle of nowhere. There was even one about outhouse maintenance. It made his collection feel meager by comparison.

Keith wondered who lived here, and if they were coming back. But right now it was empty, and he needed a place to stay. Something had pulled him to this cabin, and he had a feeling this was where he was supposed to be. 

He emptied his backpack, arranging his meager belongings in the shack. He added his books to a stack on the floor. He changed out of his Garrison uniform, down to his underclothes. He already felt better. 

He found a bucket and went outside to the spigot to get some water. He wasn’t sure about the quality of the water, so he found a pot and put it on the hot plate, aiming to boil the water for a few minutes first. While he waited, he cleaned his knife. 

He felt hollow. The magnitude of his situation should’ve filled him with fear or regret, but all he could feel was crushing grief. His own experiences hardly mattered compared to how much he missed Shiro, the aching loneliness echoing inside him. 

Tears filled his eyes before he even realized he was crying, and then he was gasping, sobs wracking through his body. He’d begun stirring the dust in the shack, and with his crying he was inhaling it, and coughing. He nearly made himself sick. 

He put away his knife and made his way to the water, trying to take steadying breaths. The water was cool now, and he took a few sips. He was so parched and now his throat was sore, and the water felt as smooth as honey. 

He laid down on the couch and pulled the tattered blanket off the back before realizing the entire couch was dusty. He stood up, hacking and coughing again, and made a noise of frustration. He shook out the cushions and blanket outside. He found a few rags tucked into a cabinet and wiped down the couch as best he could. Maybe he could find some new blankets in Grayville tomorrow. 

Right now he was exhausted and his chest hurt. He’d been up so late that the sun was beginning to rise. He laid down on the couch and tried to ignore the sand. 

He past his first night in the shack in a dreamless sleep. 

***  
**369 Days Before**

Keith awoke when the midday sun threatened to cook him inside the shack. It was like an oven, and he was soaked in sweat, t-shirt and boxers sticking to him. He quickly threw open the tiny windows around the shack, and opened the door. Dust and sand filled the air as a meager breeze swept through. 

He sat out on the porch in the shade and drank some of his clean water from last night. He nibbled on the food he had brought with him. 

He found a piece of a mirror tucked away with the few kitchen utensils, and used an old bandanna to lift his hair off his neck and face. He tried not to look at his neck. It had been a compulsive habit everyday since the Launch to watch as Shiro’s bruises faded until they disappeared. They’ve been gone for months now, but Keith still couldn’t stop his eyes from lingering over where they once were. 

Without meaning to, he was drawn into a memory of their last night together, one that has haunted him for months. 

***

“You’re pouting,” Shiro said, tilting his head at Keith.

“I do not pout.” Keith crossed his arms.

“Baby,” Shiro whispered, grabbing Keith’s arms to gently uncross them. “I don’t want to spend my last night with you upset.”

“Well if it’s our last night no matter what I’ll always be upset,” Keith insisted. 

“But you don’t pout,” Shiro said. 

“No.” 

Shiro raised an eyebrow, and then laughed. “Keith, baby, please.”

He relented and laid his head against Shiro’s chest. Shiro gave a low hum, his hands traveling up Keith’s body. 

He couldn’t help but respond with a sigh. 

“Oh? Is there something you wanted, Cadet?” Shiro asked playfully. 

“Maybe…” Keith hinted. 

Shiro rubbed his sides, pulling him in closer. “You have to tell me.” 

“I want to fuck you,” Keith said quickly. “I want you to mark me up. I want to have bruises that last weeks after you’re gone.”

It had his intended effect. Keith knew the exact words to make Shiro flustered, and his hands froze. Keith counted it as a victory until Shiro’s hands suddenly gripped him tighter. 

“I think that can be arranged, cadet,” he said, pulling Keith in for a searing kiss. 

***

Shaking himself, Keith wiped his eyes and moved to get dressed. He was lucky enough to have some civilian clothes, but now he needed to do something with his Garrison uniform. He wondered if there was a Galaxy Garrison surplus store in Grayville. He needed to go into town for food anyway, and if he could trade in his uniform for some money, that would help him a lot. He didn’t have very many credits left to his name. 

He searched the shack for anything valuable, and made a mental list of what he needed. He could use some basic necessities, as well as a few comforts like a blanket and rags. He gathered up his uniform and stepped out into the midday sun.  
It was awful. The sun was blistering and there was no wind to provide relief. Keith had vague memories like this, he remembered he used to live in a similar desert when he was very young, but it felt worse now than he’d thought. 

He tried to ignore his discomfort as he hopped on his bike. The metal was blazing, but he gritted his teeth and turned the ignition. He headed west toward town. 

After about three miles, he came across another house. It was the closest one to his shack. There was a large garage adjacent to it with different hoverbikes and vehicles parked around it. A woman stood on the porch, and she waved at him as he approached. She gestured for him to stop by. 

Keith didn’t see any signs that the Garrison had been here looking for him, no tracks or overturned earth. He decided it was probably safe, and if it wasn’t, what did he have to lose?

“Hey! Are you staring all day or are you going to come greet your neighbor?” the woman called. 

He pulled up to her house and cut the engine. He stepped down hesitantly. 

“You got a name?” she asked him. Her curly hair was tied into two braids and she had a straw hat shading her face. Smudges of oil and grime stained her overalls, with tools lining her belt and pockets.

“That depends on who’s asking,” Keith said defensively. 

Surprisingly, she let out a husky laugh. “Fair enough, cadet.” 

Keith backed up a step to his bike. 

“Relax, I ran away too.” She walked closer to him, and held out a hand. “My name is Akira. I made it to junior engineering officer before I decided to leave. But please don’t salute me. I’ve left that life behind.” 

He looked at her outstretched hand for a moment before clasping it. “I’m Keith. It’s nice to meet you.” His father had taught him manners if nothing else. 

“Is it now?” Akira asked, eyeing his bike. “You don’t seem to be too happy to be out here. And that bike is a bright gray Garrison flag announcing you. I almost shot the propellers out before I realized you weren’t in uniform.” She patted one of the pockets on her belt, and Keith realized there must be a gun there. 

He grimaced, knowing she was right. His bike was conspicuous. “Why did you leave?”

Akira gave him a long look. “The Garrison received some bad PR a while back, and had to cut some of their funding to put it into marketing and recruitment. There was a downgrade in their material that they didn’t tell us engineers about because they also didn't want bad PR for shittier quality of materials. Our calculations were for the stronger material. We designed a simulator that failed, and the Garrison demoted one of my cadets for the mistake. I later found out it was the Garrison’s fault that our calculations were off.” She shrugged sadly. “I left that next day.” 

Keith bit his cheek. The grief in his chest pulsed, the reminder of the Garrison tugging on the pain. Shiro’s uniformed silhouette flashed in his mind. He didn’t say anything. 

Akira seemed to come back into the present. “Are you running into town?” she asked. He nodded. “I happen to fix up hovercrafts if you haven’t noticed. I could offer to paint yours if you want to grab some things in town for me.”

“I’d say yes, but I don’t have a lot of money…” Keith began, trailing off. The offer was good, but he definitely didn’t have enough credits for a new paint job. 

“You’ll get a lot more than you think for that uniform of yours,” Akira sad with a smile. “That should be plenty.”

“Okay,” Keith agreed hesitantly. “What did you need?”

“I need a new compressor, model 750X. I need a new jack, and if you can find some bandages or a wrist splint, I’ll need them too.” 

Keith hadn’t noticed, but Akira had been keeping one of her arms down and close to her side. At the sound of wrist splint, he looked at her carefully. Her left arm was bruised and swollen. 

She caught him staring. She smiled ruefully, and held up her injured hand. “You actually came at a pretty convenient time. Working by yourself tends to not be the safest for injury prevention.” 

“Do you need a second pair of hands? I may not know a lot about engines, but I can help hold stuff and follow orders,” Keith offered. 

Akira smiled, and it was easy as that. 

***

**355 Days Before**

A steady routine was slowly taking shape for Keith. He would wake up and take care of errands around the shack. He would clean the blankets, and hang them to dry on clotheslines he made. He wouldn’t think about Shiro. He would wash his clothes too, if they needed it. He learned how to make soap on his own, and though it felt silly to feel proud of soap-making, he felt it all the same. 

Then, he would go into town. Akira had started to give him a tiny little wage from helping her at her shop, and it was enough to eat off of and get precious fuel for his bike. Plus he got a discount at the gas station for working with her. She and the owner were good friends. 

He would stop by her house and ask if she needed anything before flying into Grayville. A few people had noticed him by now, though only for the newly painted red coloring on his bike. He’d actually got a pretty decent deal on some biking boots and a jacket that were also that striking shade. What could he say, red was certainly his color. 

He waved to the kind old woman and the mailman and the kids who he would occasionally humor with a bike race or too. No one had ever asked if he was from the Garrison, and the guy running the surplus shop hadn’t said anything since he sold him his uniform. 

The farmer's market was busy, even though the sun had only properly risen a few minutes ago. Keith was quick to stop by the peaches stand, but he also grabbed an array of other vegetables that keep well. He did not think about Shiro. He bought a loaf of fresh bread. Meat was expensive, so he only bought the cheaper cuts that he would put in stews or dry later. He bought a little Mason jar of salt, and the woman at the stall threw in a few other spices to him for free. He stashed his haul in canvas bags that he crammed into the meager storage panel on the side of his bike. 

He would head back out of town if he didn’t need any other supplies, or he would swing by the general store on Main Street if he did. Today, though, he was alright, and headed out east. 

Akira had breakfast ready for the two of them. She actually had a handful of chickens she tended to with a little slice of well-kept earth and a coop in her back yard, and so they had plenty of eggs to eat. They made toast with half the loaf of bread Keith brought. 

Then they would get working. 

It was nice, and they got along pretty well. They would exchange stories of the Garrison here and there; hesitant, at first, mostly on Keith’s part. At the beginning, Akira would say something bad about the Garrison and all Keith would feel was a rush of defensive loyalty. Not to the Garrison though, but to Shiro. 

The Garrison was everything to Shiro, as well as he was to it. 

It took a while for Keith to separate the two, even with his anger to the Garrison for letting Shiro die. It wasn’t an easy emotional conflict for Keith to figure out. It was even harder when he avoided any thoughts of Shiro like an old injury. Talking with Akira helped. 

It wasn’t until he had known her for over a week did he bring up Shiro and the Kerberos mission. 

“I definitely heard about that,” Akira had said casually. “It wasn’t too long before you left, right?” 

Keith had looked at her and she had raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it was kind of why I left if you hadn’t guessed that already.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it. Shine the light over here, will you?” she had asked, bent over in the bowels of an engine. 

Keith had brought the light over, and he said, “The Kerberos mission didn’t fail due to pilot error.” He said it with absolute certainty, leaving no room for debate. It surprised him, he hadn’t meant to say it. But here they were. 

Akira had hummed thoughtfully. She tapped her chin with her healing hand. “It did seem strange to pin it all on their golden boy. Shirogane. He was so nice. It’s a shame what happened to him.” 

“It was a shame,” was all Keith had said. He had been quite for the rest of the day, grief tugging at his chest when he breathed. 

***  
**345 Days Before**

For a short time, Keith was fine. He wasn’t happy, exactly, but he was keeping his mind off of Shiro. He was keeping himself numb. 

His shack was beginning to feel like home. But something else began to nag at him, tug at his subconscious. He did his best to ignore it, like he tried ignoring a lot of things. 

He was finishing up a stew he’d made for his dinner. He carefully cleaned his knife while he waited for it to cool. 

The design on the hilt seemed to shimmer, casting a little sparkle of light to the opposite side of the room. When Keith turned, it was gone. He tried moving the knife again to catch the meager light in the cabin, but it would happen again. 

As he looked away, he caught the flash in the corner of his eye again. 

Keith looked studiously at the design, not knowing it to reflect light that well. Something nagging at his thoughts told him to follow it. 

_Follow it? What, the light?_

The other part of his thoughts answered him, _It shined toward the door, didn’t it?_

He stood and walked to the door, dinner forgotten for the moment. He stepped out into the dusky air, breathing in the dry air of the desert. A lizard skittered away a few feet away from him. 

He looked at his knife again, and then looked out the horizon. There was a tug, some sort of pull, driving him outside. Without any particular explanation that formed a coherent thought in his head, he hopped on his bike. He headed out southwest, away from town and people and civilization. 

He saw the barest outline of mountains and twisted rock, but the sun had already set and night was enveloping the desert fast. He shivered, missing his new jacket. 

He arrived in only a few minutes, or maybe hours, he wasn’t really sure. He parked his bike next to a rocky outcropping that reached up toward the stars. He could see other giant rocky formations all around, in the way that tends to make someone feel insignificant, like space or the ocean. 

For an awful, painful second, a silly part of his brain thought, I should tell Shiro about his place when he gets back. 

The crushing reality hit him hard, then, harder than it did when he woke up in the mornings after dreaming of a smiling, living Shiro only to realize he was dead and gone. He would never see that smile again. It knocked the wind out of him.

He normally tried to reign in his grief, to avoid the memories that hurt, like avoiding an injury by favoring a leg, limping. This time he couldn’t, it overfilled him and flowed down his face. He gasped for air and his knees buckled. He leaned against the rock for support, scraping up his palms as he slid to the ground. 

The sky stretched out overhead, the stars uncovered by clouds and no streetlights to dampen their glow. All at once it changed to Keith. It wasn’t beautiful, it was empty and vast and cold and uncaring. Somewhere out there Shiro’s body was frozen, mangled, drifting forever in space. 

Keith couldn’t stop seeing it in his mind, he couldn’t escape the sorrow squeezing his heart. He couldn’t stop thinking about Shiro’s unblinking, dead face. He dry heaved over the dirt, gasping and sobbing. 

At first he didn’t notice the glowing markings on the rock, too absorbed by his pain. But the shine of the blue light finally filtered through his watery eyes, and took a second to blink and take gasping breaths. 

Underneath his palms were lines of blue, glowing faintly in the dark. He took his hands off the rock, wincing as he pulled them away, they were bleeding a little. But he didn’t focus on it, he was entranced by the lights in front of him. 

_This is it, I’ve finally lost my mind._

But a little breath of wind ruffled his hair, bringing him out of his thoughts for a moment. He tried to ignore the static in his head to take a step back. 

A tapestry of blue lights made pictures on the rock in front of him. 

There were lions, and unfamiliar shapes that might have been some kind of foreign lettering of a language that Keith had never seen before. There were dottings of isolated lights, filling out the rock so it looked like an array of stars. 

It was beautiful. 

Keith wiped his eyes as a few confused tears leaked out. He stared for a few minutes, and his heart felt raw. He didn’t understand what he was seeing, but he couldn’t bring up any more emotions to feel confused or worried about it. Instead, he took a few steadying deep breaths. The only light around him came from the stars, the lights from his bike, and the strange lights from the outcropping of rock. 

He took a few steps back, and snapped a handful of pictures with his phone, mostly just to make sure he wasn’t insane later. He looked around the rock, but this face seemed to be the only one nearby with markings. There were a cluster of boulders and similar walls of rock, but it was too dark to get any good looks at them. He would have to look when there was more light. 

His stomach groaned and he realized he’d been gone for hours. He was numb, dimly aware that he needed to eat and sleep. He still needed to drive back. He gazed at the rock wall for another moment before climbing onto his bike and heading home. 

***  
**346 Days Before**

“You seem distracted today.”

Keith knew it was true, and he wished he hadn’t been so obvious about it. He’d never been good at hiding his emotions, though. “I’m fine.”

She gave him a look that said she knew that he was decidedly not fine but that she wasn’t going to press him about it. 

The truth was that he had taken ages to fall asleep last night, despite his exhaustion. And once he finally managed it, he had nightmares that were a mixture of Shiro’s face, dead and lost in space, the stars becoming the strange glowing marks from the rocks. In short, yes, he was very distracted. 

Akira said nothing more as they worked. 

***

As soon as he left Akira’s, he headed out to the mountains to explore. He’d packed a bag full of everything he thought he might need: a map he’d bought in town, compass, his phone, pens, and water. 

The sun was still in its final blaze as he tore across the desert. Sweat was already beading down his back and neck. He wasn’t exactly sure which rock he had seen last night, he hadn’t been the most exact when he’d felt the urge to drive out before, merely following the compass on his bike to navigate. 

From this angle, Keith could see a network of rocky cliffs reaching out to the sky. A bird coasted overhead, casting a shadow along the ground. He set out to look for the carvings in the rocks. He took a deep breath. He pulled his unruly hair back with his hands to cool his neck, and was surprised at how long it had grown. 

There had been a thought nagging at the back of his mind for a few days now. He had been ignoring it as best he could. But the realization of how long it has been freed the thought so he had no choice but to think it. 

What was he going to do now? 

Shiro had always been there to help him know what to do with his life. Keith loved flying, and piloting made sense for him, but he really only discovered his passion from Shiro’s encouragements. 

Unbidden, a rush of memories filled his mind as he walked along under a cliff shadow. 

***

“So _this_ is the response panel, where you can, well, respond,” Shiro told him with that shy laugh Keith loved. 

Keith was sitting in the pilot’s seat of the flight simulator. It was his first time inside it, but his excitement was lost, or maybe misplaced somewhere else. Shiro was reaching past him, one arm on the headrest, one gesturing to the panel above them. His officer’s jacket was unbuttoned, revealing the slim fit of his tank underneath. Keith swallowed and tried to pay attention. 

“And _here_ is the--” 

Keith didn’t hear the rest of his sentence, because Shiro’s side pressed against his head, and his concentration was shattered. It was all he took to nod and mumble out a meager “uh-huh.” 

This was not allowed. 

Shiro was a junior officer, well on his way to becoming senior officer in a few weeks. Keith was a cadet. Keith knew these as logical and sensible facts. But those thoughts were drowned out in the Shiro he had known for years, who had recruited him and talked to him when no one else saw any potential in him. 

And now that Shiro’s pecks pulled his shirt tight across his chest, inches away from his face, he could hardly think of his own name, let alone responsible thoughts. He squirmed in the pilot’s seat. He tried not to breathe, the smell of Shiro filling his senses. 

“Keith?” 

Keith blinked as he realized Shiro was saying his name, and by his tone he’d said it quite a few times. “Oh, um, yes?” 

Shiro bent down to look him in the eye. Keith swallowed again and Shiro’s eyes followed the movement of his throat. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” Keith said honestly. He was being tortured by the nearness of Shiro that he couldn’t have, but at the same time he thanked every god he knew for it. Shiro gave him a little smile, and Keith’s heart stopped. 

Gently, slowly, carefully, Shiro brought a hand close to Keith’s face, his other arm still on the back of the seat. His fingers gently brushed Keith’s cheek, and Keith’s breath stuttered. 

“Did you even hear a word I said? Are you paying attention?”

“I’m paying attention,” Keith said honestly, though he maybe wasn’t paying attention to the same things Shiro was asking about. It was a game they played, every now and then a touch would linger too long. A look would convey more than a simple acknowledgment. 

“Keith,” Shiro said, and Keith could feel the heat of his breath. His heart was beating so loud in his ears he could hardly hear. 

“Yes, sir?” Keith asked, heart in his throat. 

When he saw Shiro close his eyes and suck in a sharp breath, Keith knew he wouldn’t be able to pretend anymore. No matter what happened now, Keith knew he would always want this, want to be near Shiro, to be with him. 

“I…” Shiro tried to say. “This…” 

Keith had never seen Shiro at a loss for words. He couldn’t keep himself from glancing down at his lips.

Shiro kissed him, quick and hot, a lit match dropping on gasoline. All at once, Keith’s senses were on overdrive; they had already been focused on Shiro, and now they were burning. 

“This is not allowed,” Shiro gasped, his lips still against Keith’s. 

To show him how much he cared about the rules, Keith bit Shiro’s bottom lip, drawing out a choked groan. Keith grabbed at the open officer’s jacket hanging off his shoulders and used it to pull Shiro to him. He was tired of waiting, the dam had burst and Keith wasn’t pretending any longer. He was all emotion and fire and want.

Shiro was rigidly holding himself at arm’s length as though it made their actions any less against the rules. With a low noise in the back of his throat, Keith tugged Shiro to his lap. When he didn’t resist, growing pliant and relaxed in Keith’s grip, Keith gave a soft groan. That was definitely something Keith didn’t know he would like, but pleased him immensely. 

“Just this one time, we won’t do it again,” Shiro murmured, but Keith wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince him or himself.

Keith began traveling down Shiro’s neck, suckling purple smudges along his collarbone. “No one is around, Shiro. You can relax.” 

Shiro let out a shaky moan and the sound went straight to Keith’s hardening cock. “ _Fuck_ ,” he swore as Shiro relaxed heavily against him, settling fully in his lap. 

“Wait, Keith, wait,” Shiro said, his words almost slurred. He leaned back to look him in the face, and his eyes were blown and heavy. “This isn’t right.” 

Keith stopped immediately, leaning back into the chair. He had to force himself to stop the involuntary grinding of his hips upward. “We can stop,” he said. 

Shiro bit his lip and nodded. “Just--give me a minute?” 

He backed up off of Keith and leaned against the wall of the simulator. Keith’s eyes were drawn to the obvious arousal showing through Shiro’s pants. In this tight space they weren’t going to be able to get very far away from each other. 

Shiro was a wreck, his hair was in disarray, thought Keith couldn’t even remember the conscious decision to pull on it. His jacket was hanging off his left shoulder, revealing the expanse of bruises forming on his neck and collarbone. Keith was having trouble keeping himself still. 

“This is not allowed,” Shiro repeated, echoing what he’d said before and Keith’s own thoughts. 

“No, sir,” Keith agreed. 

“Stop that,” Shiro said, but in a tone that wasn't very convincing. “I know what you’re doing.”

Keith tried to look innocent. Shiro took a deep breath and straightened his jacket. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it. 

“I care about you, Shiro.” 

Just like that, Keith confessed. It was in the air, and it couldn’t be taken back. 

“I know it’s not right, but I want to be with you if you’ll have me. I know we won’t be able to tell anyone, and we’ll have to be secretive, but I don’t care.”

Shiro looked at him, and didn’t say anything for a moment. But his mouth kept tugging up into a smile. “Keith,” he said with a dramatic sigh that Keith knew was for the effect. “You already know I’m going to say yes. You know me better than anyone.” 

Shiro gently touched Keith’s face again, leaning into a slow, deep kiss, and Keith had never felt happier. 

***

At the end of the day, Keith went home with nothing but pictures of rocks and a hot sunburn. 

He tried not to feel disappointed, but when his emotions were normally pretty low, things not going right tended to make them descend further. He scoured over the map and circled over the area he had visited today. He made an educated guess over where his shack was in relation to the mountains, and tried to plot where he should try to look next. 

He looked through his phone, but the main pictures he had were vague, with subtle lines carved into a few spaces in the rocks that could’ve easily just been made by erosion. 

As his dinner cooked, he smeared some aloe vera gel on his shoulders and face, wincing at the sting, but lucky for the spiny plants that grew near the tree by the shack. He ate his dinner, and looked at the map some more, and the pictures he had taken of the glowing rock wall. He wanted to take a step back, to get a view of the big picture. 

He eyed a free space along one wall of the shack uncluttered by books. He scrambled for something to hold it up, finding a stash of thumbtacks and tape, covered in dust. He flattened the map up against the wall, and stepped back, satisfied with how it looked. 

Again, he had a thought of the pointlessness of his actions. Why was he driven to find this glowing rock in the desert? Something had pulled him out here. 

Was he ever going to fly in space? That had been the only thing that had mattered to him, once, getting far, far, away, as fast as he could. There was nothing on Earth for him. 

Keith was thinking in circles now, getting a headache. He shoved these worries away for the night. He dropped down on the couch and winced as he realized with a burning pain that he forgot about his sunburn. 

His thoughts raced behind his eyelids as he tried to relax, seeing rock walls with glowing marks stretching up into the stars where Shiro was alive and safe, and Keith was flying up to meet him. 

***

**325 Days Before**

The next few weeks blurred for Keith. He went to town, he went to work, he went to the mountains. Every time his eyes closed he saw the pictures of the glowing lights behind his eyelids, puzzles that he knew needed solving. 

Along with the strange lights, he was actually learning a lot from Akira. He’d always had a basic understanding of his bike and could fix minor problems. But Akira made sure he understood what he was doing when he helped around her shop. 

He was learning more about surviving in the desert. Summer was still burning hot. A snake took shelter in his shack, and he carefully followed the instructions from one of the nature books to remove it. His heart pounded for an hour afterward as he searched the rest of the shack. 

The most important thing he learned was how to find the glowing marks. It was several hot and tiring weeks of trial and error. He found if he just took a few deep breaths and stopped looking with his eyes, something would catch his attention and pull him to where he needed to go. He wasn’t really sure what else to call it other than a gut feeling, brought on by different coincidences: light flashing in the corner of his eye, a cool breeze where there was no shade for dozens of feet. It was not a fast process, often interrupted by the sky going dark as the sun went down. He found only two in the weeks that he searched, and they were nowhere near each other. 

He was starting to feel a little crazy. 

He was adding pictures and notes slowly to the wall, trying to piece together the clues. He circled the areas where the two rock walls were, trying to find any kind of correlation or explanation. He had realized a few days ago that the two rock walls had the same number of singular star-like lights, though their individual lion carvings and designs were different. He counted them out three days in a row, though, and noticed that they each decreased by one each day. Right now there were three hundred and twenty-five, but there had been three hundred and twenty-six yesterday. 

He had no idea what it meant. He had the sense that he wouldn't have very long to figure it out. But for the first time in a long time, he had purpose again. 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! A big thank you to my supporters on Patreon, this would be impossible without you. A huge thanks to my artist for their beautiful work! 
> 
> The second half will be posted on July 25th


End file.
